The Girl with the Crimson Cloak
by Kittynicula
Summary: The untold story of Little Red Riding Hood. Vilkas, formerly known as the "Big, Bad, Wolf" is being sentenced to death for his 'crime.' He vehemently denies his involvement, claiming to have been framed by Red and her grandmother. Will you listen to his tale? Rated M: Profanity, blood, gore, and treachery
1. Prologue

The cell was dark and dreary, bursting to the seams with lost souls who were about to die with unfulfilled dreams and guilty consciences. It was damp, though Vilkas wasn't sure if that was because it was so wet or because of the dampened spirits of all the prison's occupants. He suspected it was both. Mold covered the ceilings and the floor and the stench was terrible. Urine and feces wafted into his sensitive nostrils, but he had long since become immune to the stench of dying humanity. In fact, he thought that it was because he wasn't exactly human that gave him leverage. He did not possess the fragile mind that the two-legs boasted about with their ethics and morals. No, all he thought about was survival, for that was all that mattered in the cruel world that they shared. Thinking about others only brought you here: Adenhale Prison. Vilkas had tried to be what he was not and now he was paying the price for it, but even now he still fought for he had learned his lesson.

And he wanted blood.

Vilkas's cell mate stirred in the corner and lifted his head. When his eyes landed on Vilkas the man gave a strangled shout and tried to scramble away from him. It was like this every night, though could Vilkas blame him? He must be a terrifying sight to wake up to.

When the man finally regained his composure he could only stare and Vilkas, soon losing patience, huffed and turned away from him. Let him gawk. It was what everyone in this God-forsaken town would be doing tomorrow morning when he would be executed for his 'crime.'

"D-Do they…ya know…hurt?" Vilkas lifted his head and frowned at the human, his eyes annoyed slits. Couldn't he even sleep in peace for his last night on this earth? "Those chains?" The man clarified as if Vilkas had no idea what he was referring to. Vilkas sighed irritably.

Apparently not.

"Of course they hurt. They're silver." The man paled the instant Vilkas's gravelly voice left his maw. Clearly the man hadn't been expecting for Vilkas to answer, but then why would he? It wasn't like Vilkas had responded to any of the other man's questions for the month he had spent in this horrible place.

"H-How can you talk?" The man suddenly demanded and understanding dawned on Vilkas. His cell mate didn't think he could talk in this form. That was also understandable. How many of mankind would walk around saying they conversed with a wolf? Truly such ramblings would be met with a burning at the stake for some sort of witchcraft. Vilkas grumbled. He knew two people that deserved such a painful death. _They_ were the ones who should be rotting in prison. Not him.

"Same as you." Vilkas replied simply in a tired voice, resting his head on his paws, wincing from the silver manacles that chained him to the ground by his ankles. The pain was constant, though it had long since dulled. His body no longer told him that silver would hurt him, deeming him foolish for being exposed to it for so long. It wasn't like he had a choice, but he was glad that the stabbing pains that had tormented him for the first couple weeks had lessened to just a painful ache, only intensified by movement. "I move my lips and sound comes out." His cell mate did not seem to appreciate the sarcasm and the two were silent for awhile. Vilkas, glad for the peace, closed his eyes once more to try and sleep.

The silence did not last long.

"Is it true?" The man asked suddenly and Vilkas gave a threatening growl.

"Sleep, human. Do not give me an excuse to move." His words only seemed to confirm whatever rumor the man had believed and he gave a yelp of fright. Vilkas allowed the scent of fear to wash over him and his blood lust spiked. Yes, this was a response he was used to, something he missed. Humans were supposed to be afraid of him, not curious. At least have one human think of him as frightening before he died.

"So you did eat that woman!" Vilkas's eyes snapped open as rage suddenly engulfed him, the scent of fear forgotten. All he saw was red as he located the man across the room with a murderous stare. He was on his feet in an instant and lunged towards the man who quickly scrambled backwards. The chains quickly did their job though and Vilkas was stopped in his tracks, snapping his teeth in vain at the man that was just achingly out of his reach. How dare he accuse him of such a thing!? Vilkas trembled with the need to tear this man limb from limb for this worthless man's audacity. If he did reach the man then Vilkas would actually be executed for a crime he did in fact commit, because nothing would be left.

"I ate no one! That old hag still lives in the forest with that vixen who runs around and does her dirty work!" Vilkas spat, his eyes blazing as he tried to get a hold of the man in front of him. The man, seeing that Vilkas could not reach him, calmed down and was sure to stay where he was to not fall victim to the wolf's ivory teeth. The disheveled man looked confused, no doubt trying to remember the rumors that had been forced down his throat, no doubt by that vixen herself.

"But Red said—"

"That good-for-nothing bitch is a liar! She's the reason why I'm in this hole." He snarled bitterly, his breaths coming in short, angry pants. Vilkas fought to regain his composure as he shook himself. The manacles jangled, only reminding Vilkas of his imprisonment. He gingerly went back to his corner, his back to the man, and sat in a stony silence, determined to ignore this man. He was obviously brainwashed by that witch.

"So…you didn't eat Red's grandma and then try and eat her?"

"Were you not listening, human? I ate no one. I was framed."

"By who?" An angry roar answered him, leaving the man quaking in his own corner, terrified of the creature just a few feet away.

"Are you daft!? By Red Riding Hood and her Grandmother!" Memories began to swirl in his mind and he tried valiantly to shut them out but one stubbornly remained the harsh truth evident in his current predicament.

_Red, cold and beautiful, stood over him. Her bright blue eyes were now as cold as the darkest depths of the ocean as she brandished the bloodied silver axe in her hand. _

"_Oh Vilkas," she had said, her voice filled with mocking, "no one's going to believe you over me." She crouched next to him, placing a blood-stained hand on his cheek. "After all, who's going to believe the Big, Bad, Wolf?" _

Vilkas growled loudly. She had left him there that night a month ago, bleeding and broken, to be found by the Adenhale police. He had been next to a bloodied corpse and an unconscious Red, who later awoke after his interrogation and spun a wild tale about how he had followed her in the forest, killed her grandmother, and then tried to eat her. It was all lies! That hag was still alive, he was sure of it, and both her and Red were going to get away scot-free while he died for a crime he did not commit.

"But all those people that had disappeared…someone _did_ kill them. Where did they all go?" Vilkas ignored him, tired of this fool. He obviously wasn't going to believe him. No one else did, so why even bother? "Hey, Wolf?" The man persisted and still Vilkas ignored him. There was no point in telling this man anything. Telling him the truth would only force him to relive his memories. It wouldn't change anything.

"Or maybe it was some_thing_." The man said thoughtfully, his face scrunched up as if it took all ounce of effort to think logically. "Everyone in town did think the 'murders' were actually wolf attacks—" Again the man cowered from Vilkas's snapping teeth for he had suddenly lunged from the floor, paying no heed to the chains that rooted him to the spot. However, the man was soon brave again, for he remembered that Vilkas could not travel far, that he was safe in this small corner. "You can't deny it! There have been times where your kind has attacked ours." Vilkas only snarled wordlessly, his outrage eminent as he stared down at the man in front of him, only mere inches away from his quivering jaws. "Gone rabid, or some junk like that. What makes this time any different? Just because there was more than usual doesn't make it abnormal."

"Enough!" Vilkas thundered and the man quaked where he stood. The authority was undeniable in the wolf's voice and he had a feeling that this animal was used to having his orders followed. "You have slandered my race enough, little human." Vilkas continued to snarl, but he did not move. The chains that kept him tethered bit into Vilkas's skin but he ignored them. He had to remind this man that he should be afraid of tormenting a wolf for he was getting cocky in his speech. "Yes, there have been attacks on your kind from us, but those were rogue wolves who were swiftly dealt with." The man paled, no doubt understanding that those wolves were no longer in this realm. "We would never willingly attack humans and prefer to have some sort of co-existence." Vilkas suddenly snorted. "I even remember when your kind regarded us as Gods. Such primitive fools then…" The man looked confused and Vilkas didn't elaborate, though he couldn't believe he had let that one slip. His kind in particular could live for centuries without showing signs of aging. Human kind generally only knew of the Lesser Wolves that roamed the Earth who could not speak and only had one form. "But your kind still must be primitive even now for not being able to distinguish a wolf kill from a human one." The man sank to the ground, stunned, as if this thought had never even occurred to him. Vilkas had a feeling it never had. Humans always had a tendency to look for the easiest explanations for things. Such creative thinking had been effectively squandered years ago. "I have to admit," Vilkas said begrudgingly, "she did a good job though. I had to make sure none of my wolves had stepped out of line before venturing out—"

"She? Venturing out?" Vilkas shot the man another look of annoyance. He was not used to being interrupted by lesser beings.

"Red Riding Hood of course. Once I discerned that my wolves were in fact innocent, I had gone deeper into the forest to discover who had the audacity to try and frame my kind." The man looked confused and Vilkas sighed before settling down on the ground. Curse this man. Maybe he had done it on purpose, but now Vilkas felt inclined to tell him what he knew, if only to cure that look of confusion on his face. "You must keep up human. I'll start from the beginning if I must…"


	2. Chapter One

Adenhale was a rustic little town that had barely changed at all during the decades that Vilkas had been alive. It seemed like the same people lived there no matter how many years went by. There would always be the farmers, the carriage drivers, the chimney sweeps, the blacksmiths, and, of course, the local law enforcement.

"How long have you been alive?" Vilkas's cell mate cut in, curious. Vilkas silenced him with a glare before continuing his tale as if the man hadn't interrupted him.

The faithful servants of the law were unfortunately very trigger happy, especially when it came to the local wolf population in the area. The Lesser Wolves often caused quite a ruckus by killing cattle and raiding chicken coops, and even, when provoked, the occasional attack on a human. As Alpha—

"So you are an Alpha! I knew it!" Vilkas growled.

"Silence, human. You're beginning to annoy me. As I was saying…"

As Alpha it was Vilkas's duty to take care of them, even sacrificing a few so that the humans didn't discover the secret that was hiding deep in the forest: werewolves. Werewolves, such as himself, had been a secret for generations. Of course, they had once been well-known, it was where all the folklore came from, but the existence had been too much on mankind and they made the decision to go into hiding.

"You're a werewolf!?" Vilkas sighed irritably.

"Yes, I'm sure I just made that clear."

"So you can just turn into a human whenever you want?"

"No, it doesn't work that way—"

"Because if you can, you could just turn into a human and escape—"

"If you would just let me finish—" His cell mate kept talking though and Vilkas finally snapped his teeth in warning, sufficiently silencing him. "One more interruption and I will silence you myself." He snarled impatiently and the man gave a mute nod to show that he understood.

In the traditional folklore werewolves have the ability to change into their wolf form once every full moon, an excruciatingly painful process that unleashes a monster upon humanity. However, werewolves had adapted since then. Being human all the time proved to be difficult when residing in the forest, so now his kind only experienced being human once a month.

His cell mate moved to talk again but Vilkas answered the obvious question that was about to come out of his mouth.

"I am able to become human every full moon, which is why my execution date is tomorrow. I will be hung for my crime in your Kind's primitive fashion of execution." The man nodded so Vilkas deemed it safe to continue.

Now werewolves didn't look like normal wolves. The great mountain wolves, graced with the name of Timber, looked small compared to Vilkas's kind. There was no way that humans would mistake a werewolf for a normal one, so they hid deep in the forest and were only roused when something serious arose on the horizons. Werewolves had kept their peace with humanity for two previous Alphas before Vilkas, but when it had been brought to his attention that Adenhale was becoming restless, Vilkas had sent scouts in investigate on a full moon.

His scouts had scoured the taverns that evening and returned later on in the evening to report what they had found. With alcohol on their breaths the two told Vilkas that Adenhale was currently in an uproar. People, rich and poor, were vanishing left and right. Vilkas immediately shrugged the scouts off.

"Tis not a concern of ours. This is clearly a human problem—"

"But Alpha," the first Scout, a lean male, interrupted with a slight tremor in his voice. It was never wise to interrupt a superior, but Vilkas, knowing they would not cut him off unless it was important, let the interruption slide. He gave a slight nod of encouragement and the Scout continued. "The people of Adenhale are blaming the wolves."

Vilkas was astounded. Blaming the wolves for a couple of disappearances? What proof did they have? He voiced as much and the second Scout piped up. This one was female, lithe and agile.

"They have no proof sir, just circumstantial evidence." She paused. "But I believe we have a rogue upon us." Vilkas began to pace as he considered the possibility.

"So there have been bodies?"

"For each person that has disappeared, yes." The first scout spoke again. His voice trembled and Vilkas was reminded of the boy's youth. It had been his first mission and he had been shaken.

"You've seen them then?" He pressed further and the two Scouts glanced at one another.

"We've seen the most recent one sir. It was…awful. There was barely anything left. It definitely looked like a wolf attack, sir." The first scout finished with an uncertain look flitting between the two. Vilkas saw the glance they had shared and repressed an irritable huff. He had to be patient with the rookies. They had to learn on their own what such attacks looked like. Plus, he reminded himself, until now, they had lived in a time of peace with the humans. It was understandable that they were not aware of what such a violent crime would look like. Only the Elders, Aside from himself, would remember such times and be able to confirm what the humans were claiming.

"And you are certain that it is not one of their own kind attacking them?"

Another uncertain glance.

"We weren't able to get a close look." The second scout confessed. "There were humans everywhere and they were only letting the officers near the body, but…from where we were standing, it definitely looked like a rogue's work." Vilkas shook his head, immediately dismissing that idea.

"We haven't had a rogue in the area in years. We would know if someone had entered our territory without permission." Seeing their unconvinced looks, Vilkas finally let loose a growl of frustration. The two scouts took a hasty step back at the warning.

"We weren't doubting you sir, it's just…you didn't see what we saw." Vilkas looked from one determined face to the next. They were convinced of this rogue attack theory. He sighed softly and ran a hand through his hair. Maybe he was being too close-minded on the issue. If his scouts, admittedly talented despite their ages, were saying that this might be the work of a werewolf, then it was his job as Alpha to investigate.

"The law enforcement will not let anyone near the body?" He asked, glancing towards the sky. It was still dark, but he could start to distinguish a hint of light in the sky. It would be dawn soon. He only had two hours left at most. Would that be enough time?

Like any wolf on the full moon Vilkas was in his human form. He had admittedly been counting the hours till the sun rose, but now it was a hindrance. He needed more time to investigate this properly, time he didn't have.

"It's too far, Alpha." The second scout said softly, no doubt guessing what was on his mind. "You wouldn't make it before the sun rose, and they would shoot down any wolf they saw in the area." Vilkas harrumphed his agreement and stroked his jaw thoughtfully. He didn't like what the alternative was, but it was all that they had.

"Then we'll have to wait for the next attack." The surprised gasps didn't bother Vilkas. He was used to having to make such hard decisions. He was perfectly aware that he was condemning another life by ordering them to wait, but he was convinced that was all they could do. They did not know for sure if the culprit was human or werewolf so they could not prepare accordingly. Besides, if it was a human affair, the werewolves had no reason to get involved. It would be a matter for them to settle and they would just fade back into the darkness of the forests. If it was a werewolf, well…he or she would be swiftly dealt with. Until then—

"Round up all the Scouts." He told the two protesting children in front of him. "Be on the lookout for any type of activity, either human or werewolf. We've got to get to the bottom of this. The last thing we need is humans storming the forests and discovering its secrets." The scouts, deciding they liked their Alpha's change of heart, dispersed quickly to spread the word. Vilkas sighed softly and looked to the sky once more. The Elders had warned him that a storm was coming, though they had been spewing nonsense like that for years so he hadn't taken them seriously. What if they were discovered? What would that mean for his kind? Would they be run out?

No.

There were too many wolves in his pack that were looking for any reason to attack the humans. They would leap at this chance to fight for their territory. So which was worse? Being run out or causing an all out war? Both were frightening concepts that Vilkas did not want to face, but all he could do was wait until the next attack. It was the only option he had, so he would tell his wolves to keep their eyes open and their ears to the ground. Maybe they were worrying over nothing, but he had learned the hard way many times that it was better to be safe than sorry. If there was a threat to their existence on the loose, his pack would be ready, and as their Alpha, Vilkas would be prepared for anything.


End file.
